


a blue room (for two room)

by toomanyfictionalboyfriends



Category: Kill Your Darlings (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Future Fic, Is That Even A Surprise, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Probably ooc, Self-Indulgent, boy needs a hug, lucien is hella cuddly, they're nearly 40
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 16:51:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12939573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomanyfictionalboyfriends/pseuds/toomanyfictionalboyfriends
Summary: allen wakes up early and meditates; lucien sleeps late and wants his morning cuddles.a look at a morning in their lives down the road if lucien had never killed david. feelings are involved.





	a blue room (for two room)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: none of these characters belong to me. 
> 
> This is entirely based on the characters from the movie. It has nothing to do with the real people and what they did with their lives. 
> 
> Title comes from the song Blue Room from the Kill Your Darlings soundtrack.

Allen wakes up with a headache and a face full of blond hair. He groans and shifts, the early morning light shining straight into his eyes. Lucien is warm along his side, the comforter pushed down to their feet and the sheets barely covering their legs.

He’s not sure what woke him. Today is meant to be a nothing day for them, or at least him. Lucien, though significantly calmer than he was in their Columbia days, has his own whims. But Allen is tired, has been tired for weeks now, and it’s time for a day off. 

According to the clock, it’s 10:51. He hasn’t woken up this early in a long time, although he’s stayed up this late fairly recently, much to his and Lucien’s chagrin when they woke up the next day miserable. They aren’t teenagers anymore. 

Now that he’s awake, he has to pee, so he carefully dislodges Lucien’s arms from around his waist, savouring the little groan of complaint his sleeping partner makes before he rolls away, already finding another replacement pillow. Allen smiles fondly before standing.

After using the washroom, Allen wanders into the kitchen, alarmingly awake. As he’s gotten older, he’s needed way more sleep. Even Lucien is starting to slow down. It’s about time; they’re approaching Lucien’s fortieth birthday in a couple of weeks. 

Allen goes about his usual morning routine, making coffee and putting bread into the toaster oven. He’s never that hungry after first waking up. Too hung over. Last night though, he and Lucien only had a few shots of whiskey before Lucien decided to recite as much of Yeats’ poetry as he possibly could. They fell asleep around two, Lucien running out of the randomly spewed words he’d switched to after refusing to admit that he couldn’t remember any more. 

He settles in an overstuffed armchair with his coffee and gazes across the street, not registering the people moving around in the apartment building across from theirs. After finishing his coffee, he closes his eyes. He finds himself more and more frequently slipping into meditation, a new practice that he finds far more effective for clearing his mind than the many, many drugs he and Lucien experimented with over the years. 

With his eyes shut, mind blank, time slips away from him, and before he knows it, he hears Lucien banging around in the kitchen. He keeps his eyes closed though, smiling as Lucien sings something under his breath. It must be later than Allen thought. 

After a minute, Lucien comes into the living room and settles down on the couch across from Allen; he can hear the creaking of the old wooden frame. 

“Morning,” he says. 

“Bit off there, Ginsy. It’s past one.”

Allen cracks one eye open at a grinning Lucien, who when he sees that Allen is paying him attention, pouts. “Woke up by myself this morning, asshole.” 

“You poor darling,” Allen says, but can’t help his grin. Lucien stands up with his coffee, and unceremoniously flings himself onto Allen’s lap. Limbs go everywhere. Allen winces when some of the coffee spills onto his bare arm, and they both stop moving when the armchair creaks dangerously. 

There was a point where Allen thought he would never have this, could never have this. When David was still in their lives, and their first kiss went horribly wrong, and Lucien was leaving for Paris. They both think of the paper that Allen wrote after their kiss with humiliation to this day; Allen, for allowing himself to be degraded to David’s role, and Lucien for asking him to do it. Conversations about it still end with both of them scraped raw. 

After finishing that paper, Allen thought and cried and then tore it up. When Lucien after a long night of arguing with David that nearly ended in a physical fight came to get it, Allen told him to never try to turn him into David again. 

Two days later David jumped into the Hudson River and they were all unmoored. 

Still, they rebuilt. It took time; Allen knows he owes his relationship with Lucien nearly entirely to Jack. Jack, who refused to allow Lucien to exclude Allen from their friendship. Jack, who after making up with Edie, convinced Lucien to stay for the time being. Jack, who pushed and prodded at Lucien to forgive Allen for the whole debacle, and who convinced Allen to get past his betrayal at Lucien’s reaction. 

“Penny for your thoughts,” Lucien says, pushing himself up to sit sideways on Allen’s lap. When Allen opens his mouth, Lucien says, “No, you’re right, a thought is worth far more than a penny.”

Allen snorts. “Pretentious prick.”

“You’re just as bad.” 

He laughs, and then sighs. “Just thinking about Columbia.”

Lucien stiffens in his lap. “Which part?”

Allen meets his eyes. They’ve made it a long way on communication, and they’ve talked about those early months a lot, but it’s still uncomfortable. “Mainly after.” Allen knows better than to lie to Lucien though. 

Lucien groans and presses his forehead to Allen’s shoulder. “Why must we ruin a perfectly good morning with that?” 

“Nothing bad,” Allen reassures him. “Just how Jack saved us from ourselves. And each other.”

“God, I know. He never lets us forget.” Lucien sits up, serious for once. As he’s gotten older, he’s become far more honest about his feelings. “And I will be forever grateful to him for that. You know that, right, Ginsy?”

“Of course.” Ginsy pulls Lucien in for a sloppy, sleepy kiss. When he pulls back, he says, “It was just reminiscing, anyways. Remember that night in the bar?” 

Lucien laughs. “How could I forget? The look on that man’s face when I barged in… you, just about to come… God.”

“I wouldn’t mind a repeat of that.” Lucien draws back, eyes narrowed but still mischievous, and Allen laughs, clarifying anyways. “I mean what came after.”

Lucien raises his eyebrows, the dangerous smile that Allen fell in love with that first night in Lucien’s room appearing, and says, “That, I think we can do.” He slides off of Allen’s lap and onto his knees before him, and Allen doesn’t feel old. 

Later, after they’re back in bed and Allen has repaid the favour, Lucien pulls Allen in and presses their foreheads together. “I love you,” he whispers. Allen knows. And God, he’s glad he has this when everything could have gone so, so much differently.


End file.
